


Are You Still Mine?

by MrsRen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent-Viktor/Hermione, F/M, Fixing things, Hopeful Ending, Infidelity, Not Quite a Full HEA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:03:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20611601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/MrsRen
Summary: Sometimes people fall apart. The trick is putting everything back together without fear of cutting yourself on their jagged edges.





	Are You Still Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: PLEASE do not skip. This oneshot is entirely written for an anonymous ask I received on my tumblr. Prompt: Draco and Hermione are married, and with children. They're not doing very well, and after reuniting with her ex-boyfriend, Viktor Krum, she ends up in his hotel room. In the end they don't have sex, though other sexual acts do occur, because she regrets her decision. [Prompt Paraphrased.]
> 
> WARNING: If you've made it this far, then you already know that this is a fic that heavily deals with infidelity. I would like to point out that if you read until the end, you will find that Hermione is not the only one at fault. However, there is a warning for dub-con. Since warnings are more important than keeping my plot 'secret', while they are drinking, Hermione gets incredibly drunk. Viktor stops drinking, and with her state of mind, she doesn't realise what she'll think of it later. OOC Characters, because yes, I'm aware that Hermione wouldn't go off and cheat on her husband. I promise there are other fics to read if you don't like this one.
> 
> Extra Note: I didn't write out Viktor's accent because for one, I don't know how, and for two, I don't really like to read it that way.
> 
> Super long note, and I'm really sorry, but this like almost seven thousand words anyway. The ending is not completely HEA because there's so much to come back from. But, it's hopeful. Thanks to mcal, Frompologist, HufflepuffMommy, and some other fabulous ladies in DFW (I'm unable to remember their pennames) for pre-reading! Any mistakes are my own, as this was beta'd by my own eye and Grammarly.

* * *

Hermione didn't really remember where it started. It was all a blur, leaving her to feel like one day they had been happy, so in love that they couldn't keep their hands off of each other, and now there was a chasm between them that they would never close.

It wasn't made any better by the fact that their children were away for the term at Hogwarts. It was for the best that Scorpius and Rose had no idea how far their parents had drifted, though they must have had their suspicions.

With their children gone, leaving them to have the manor to themselves again, Hermione thought something had to give. So she waited. After an entire summer of pretending they weren't screaming above silencing charms at night, surely they had to improve.

Hermione didn't pretend that she held none of the blame, but Draco seemed to believe that she was the sole problem. It was her career, he said, and it cut her deeply. Her husband had always been supportive of her and had campaigned vigorously for her when it came to becoming Minister of Magic.

And yet, now he blamed exactly that for the wedge between them as if he hadn't helped her drive it home as well.

She could agree that she was often gone, sometimes too much. She could see that she took several trips when another could be sent in her place. And Hermione knew, despite how much she would have liked to deny it, she took trips to get away from him.

Scared to have any discussion for fear what it could lead to, she saw Draco do much of the same.

She could remember a time—a much better time—in their youth where they worked together to build a company under the Malfoy name. Once again a household name, for better reasons than what some chose to remember, Draco was a philanthropist.

Hermione just wondered when her husband's generosity would extend to her.

"Will you be home this weekend?" She asked quietly over dinner.

He chewed, not meeting her gaze. "I may take a trip."

She pushed pasta around her plate. It wasn't the news she'd hoped for, but it was what she'd expected. "Is it necessary?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Was your trip to Belgium last weekend _necessary_?"

Throwing her napkin to the table, she glared. "As a matter of fact, it was! I know I've made mistakes lately, and I should have been home—"

"Shame you didn't realize it sooner than."

Her temper broke, and she regretted snapping at him since it would result in another fight that would leave her hoarse. "I'm trying to be better!" Hermione yelled, ignoring the way his brows shot up. "Look at us, our marriage is falling apart, and instead of attempting to fix it, all we do is fight!"

"Who's to blame for that?" Draco muttered, pushing his food away. "This started because you didn't want to make time for our marriage, Hermione."

Quickly growing defensive, she huffed. "So now that I want to be here, it doesn't matter?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hermione,"

Her eyes watered, and she turned looked at the table instead of at him. It seemed as if it would always be this way, and the recurring thought resurfaced that made her heartache. "Please, just answer the question, could you stay home this weekend? Draco, I want to fix this, us. We used to be so in love, and you don't—"

She broke off as his gaze hardened, and while she had the gall to finish her sentence, Hermione found she didn't particularly want to.

"I don't what?"

Swallowing, Hermione whispered, "You don't act like you like me anymore, much less love me."

He rose without a word, squaring his shoulders. "I'm going to bed." His features were pinched in anger, and he said nothing in response to her until he lingered at the edge of the dining room. "If that's what you believe," Draco murmured, "then it sounds as if you've already made up your mind."

Leaving her with that, Hermione remained at the table until she was certain he had gone to sleep.

* * *

Their fights were quieter in the two days that followed. Draco barely looked at her, not that she could say she'd done any different. He left much earlier in the mornings than she did in those two mornings, and he didn't bother to kiss her temple as he had for fifteen years.

It cut her to the core. For all their fights, he'd never broken that one tradition and Hermione wondered if it was her fault. She'd accused him of no longer loving her, but that was how it _felt. _They were cold to one another, bickering until it turned toxic, and they weren't finding a way out. If she tried to, then she seemed overbearing.

If he tried, she acted defensively.

It was a vicious cycle she knew had to give, or they would be seeking out solicitors before their children left Hogwarts. The _thought_ made bile rise in her throat. Draco had been her partner since a year after the war, even though it had been tumultuous then. For all they had gone through—prejudice and judgement from family, friends, and wizarding society—they had been partners.

Now, they were at the other's throat.

Hermione only stayed in her office for half of the day, her stomach churning while she rifled through the files on her desk. The door opened, and her receptionist smiled, handing her a letter before closing the door without a word. Hoping it was from Draco, even though the very thought of what he could possibly be saying made her sick, she was still disappointed when it wasn't from him at all.

_Hermione,_

_I'm visiting this weekend. Since we didn't have the chance to catch up when you were in Belgium, I had wondered if you would be available for dinner Saturday night? I'll be staying at the Hari for the weekend, room 267. If you would like to meet, please owl me there. I hope to hear from you._

_Viktor._

* * *

Hermione expected their home to be vacant when she flooed home, but Draco sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. There was a half-empty bottle of firewhisky sitting in front of him, and she slowly walked toward him. Letting her handbag fall to the floor, not caring at all, she sat across from him.

He didn't say anything as he looked at her.

She tipped the bottle to her lips, the spout chilly against her mouth. Taking a long drink that burned a dangerous path down her throat, Hermione swallowed and lifted her head. "You're home." Unable to help the smile that came with those words, she almost reached for his hand.

But things were so precarious that she didn't. And maybe that was one of her many mistakes.

"I love you more than anything, you realise that, don't you?" He rasped. His eyes were bloodshot, and he continued without allowing her to speak. "I would give anything for you in a heartbeat, die for you—" He'd used to say it more, when the war was still fresh, and Death Eaters were still loose, free to target her. "But it's _torture_ to look at you."

This time, Hermione didn't hide the tears that sprang to her eyes. She wiped her face with her sleeve, and there was mascara streaked across it when she pulled it away. "Draco,"

He shook his head. "If you think I don't love you, then I've not done my duty as your husband." Draco lifted the bottle again.

"I haven't," She hiccuped. "I haven't exactly made it easy for you, have I?" It was utter silence as he took those words and another drink. "You haven't drunk in a long time." Hermione mused quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Depends," he growled. "Are you going to give me shite for it? Are you going to tell me how I'm a terrible husband?"

"I've never said you were a horrible husband!"

"Fucking liar!" He yelled, and his throat bobbed as he greedily swallowed mouthfuls of the rest of the bottle. Draco threw it at the wall, and the glass shattered in all directions, skidding even to just under her feet. "I heard you talking to Weasley. I heard you tell him that our marriage is shite, and he asked you if I was still good to you."

Every word of that conversation went through her mind in one moment, and she knew nothing good could come of it.

"What did you tell him, Hermione?"

She couldn't say a word.

"You don't remember?" He hissed, digging his fingers into his hair. "Then allow me to remind you."

"No—"

"You didn't say anything." His tone was flat. "I've loved you for fifteen years, no matter what fight we had, and you couldn't even say it to my face."

Hermione shot to her feet, throwing her arms out. "How could I? We scream at eachother, Draco! I can barely get a word in before you call me a bitter, little cunt that you don't even recognise as your _wife. _Yet, you'll stand here and tell me how much you love me. We don't show it, and we need help."

He stood, towering over her, and traced her lower lip with his thumb. "Don't you think we're beyond help, Hermione?"

_This was it. _It was all she could think, and she burst into tears. Halfway wishing he would reach for, and knowing that if he did, she would rip away, Hermione didn't look away from him. "Then what do you want to do?"

Nothing but fear stared back at her in his eyes.

"We can't live like this."

"Scorpius and Rose—"

She shook her head. "I won't stay in this marriage as is until they're of age. I don't want to put any strain on them at all, but we may hurt them more if we force ourselves to stay." Hot tears slid down her cheeks. "I want you more than anyone I've ever known. I can't imagine a life without you, but I can't imagine my life as it is right now for the rest of my life either."

Even pissed, Draco summoned his coat. "I'm leaving for the night."

_I shouldn't have expected anything else than for you to run away, _almost left her, but that was wrong, wasn't it? "If you could find your way back, I would meet anywhere. I would meet you wherever if this didn't end how I think it might."

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her temple four times, each kiss lingering. "I shouldn't have broken a perfectly good tradition."

"Where will you go?"

His shoulders stiffened, and he replied in a tight voice. "I'm going to take a Sober Up potion, and leave for the business trip I should have been on. Monday—give us until Monday."

"I'm not sure," Hermione began, but he was already gone.

* * *

Desperate to rid her mind of what was likely coming at the end of the weekend, Hermione decided to have dinner with Viktor. They usually met while he was in town, but an odd sense of guilt followed her because Draco had always known. He'd never cared that Viktor was her ex-boyfriend—and it hardly counted since she'd been fourteen—but still, he had known. And now he didn't, and she debated whether it was a good idea at all.

The Hari was a beautiful hotel, and he met her in the hotel's bar, guiding her to a booth with low light while pressing his palm to the small of her back. "You're stunning." He told her, lifting her hand, and pressing his lips to it.

In reality, she was anything but stunning. Her hair was quickly styled after running her fingers through it mid-panic attack in the shower, and her makeup charms were subpar at best. "Thank you. You're very kind."

There were wrinkles by his eyes as he gave her a warm smile, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "Tell me all about your life. How are your children? Draco?"

The mention of her husband's name made her want to wretch, but asking to not mention him would lead to more questions than she felt comfortable with. "Rose, and Scorpius are in Hogwarts, but you already knew that."

Viktor didn't let go of her hand.

She should have pulled away, but the feel of his skin on hers was wam, inviting, _soothing_, and that should have set off alarms in her head from the start. "Rose is the top of her class. Scorpius is second, and he writes home to tell me often that there's a girl he can't quite beat." It was the wrong thing to say. Hadn't that been Draco and herself? Even though her son actually did have a crush on his academic rival… "He's on the Quidditch team, naturally, telling everyone what to do even when he isn't the captain."

"Oh, yes, he's as good as his father was, isn't he?"

Her chest constricted. "Even better, I'd say. He wants to play professionally once he finishes school."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Has he mentioned any teams he's hopeful for?"

"Puddlemere. It drives his father mental." Hermione laughed. She eager gulped down the drink that was set in front of her. "Pardon?" She stopped the waiter by catching his sleeve. "Could I get something stronger?"

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?" Viktor ran a thumb across her knuckles, and the toe of his boot skimmed her thigh. "Love—"

Her eyes were watering, and there was no hope of keeping anything to herself. "I believe Draco and I may be divorcing."

He slid out of his side of the booth and sat next to her. "When did this happen?"

The waiter sat two drinks in front of her and left them. She drank one before she said anything at all. "We've been fighting for months, over anything. I told him that he didn't act as if he loved me anymore. And I don't know what's going to happen now."

"Oh," he murmured softly, gripping her thigh. "You deserve so much better, love. Don't you agree? A woman like you should be loved."

She didn't want to admit that the world was already swimming. Glancing at the bottle the waiter had left, she recognised elf wine and knew she'd never been able to hold it well.

"And cherished." He added, his hand skimming her thigh, the rough callouses from years of Quidditch brushing against soft skin as he reached the bottom of her dress. "When is the last time he loved you properly?"

She guzzled the glass of wine that had been left for him, a droplet escaping from the side of her mouth.

He caught with the pad of his thumb, running it along her lip, and without thinking, she took the digit into her mouth. "Look at how lovely you are, Hermione. I've always known so." Viktor pulled his finger from her mouth, his gaze dropping to where it had been. "Tell me, when was the last time?"

Merlin, it had been _months _since they had taken advantage of one another. Long before summer had come and gone. She could vividly remember his cock pressed against her cunt while she rode him in a clawfoot tub on Valentine's Day, the water sloshing out while he waved his wand to fill it with a laugh.

The tinkling laugh echoed in her ears.

"Valentine's Day." She whispered. "He doesn't look at me like that, but it's hard to when we fight so much, isn't it?"

Viktor shook his head. "I would never be able to keep myself from you, no matter how much we fought."

Her head spun, and his words made her feel… nice. But that was wrong, it had to be. She was _married._

"That's ridiculous. We dated once while we were practically children. You wouldn't know the first thing about how," he stroked her thigh again, laying his arm around the back of the booth, caging her in. "You should stop."

He tilted his head. "Do you want me to?"

She didn't have an answer.

That had already gotten her in trouble once, hadn't it?

"May I tell you what I think?" He asked, pulling his hand away, but she could still hardly fucking _focus_.

"I think you'll tell me whether I want you to or not." Hermione murmured.

"You're a beautiful woman, and he's taken you for granted." He whispered, his face nearing hers, and he must have heard her swallow. "I just want to say that I wouldn't do so. You deserve to be worshipped, Hermione. Every single inch of you until you're quivering, and losing your mind."

It was embarassing that a sentence made her folds slick, and she squeezed her legs together.

The movement did not go unnoticed.

"How can he claim to love you when he doesn't take care of you?" Inching up her thighs were his fingers, slipping under her dress, hidden by the table and the dark lighting of the bar. "Say something, Hermione."

Viktor rubbed her clit through her knickers, and she whimpered. "I can't do this. I'm married."

He dropped a kiss to her shoulder, stilling his movements. "It doesn't seem that you will be much longer, love. And I," he sighed, lifting his head. "I want to make you delirious with pleasure until you scream."

_It doesn't seem that you will be much longer._

If it was true, it was still taboo. Still considered cheating on her husband who she still loved, in spite of the murky future that was coming.

"If anything, you should allow yourself to remember what it's like to be with someone…" he trailed off, his breath rolling past her ear.

It wasn't her, who she was, and yet, nothing stopped Hermione from making a decision that she had not once considered.

She could blame it on the wine, far too strong her and her weak tolerance to everything elf made. Draco would tell her exactly that, with a smirk curving half of his mouth.

And it was true, that her thoughts were fuzzy around the edges. Viktor's wandering touch didn't make it any better, but Hermione still _knew _it was wrong.

"Don't you think he's already made that choice?" Viktor's question sliced through her. "If he hasn't taken you—what I mean to say is that a man without needs—"

"He wouldn't cheat on me." Hermione hissed, but her hips moved against his fingers below her dress. _He's clearly a better person than I, considering I'm wiggling in a booth with foreign fingers about to slip into my cunt._

"He doesn't take more trips than he should?" He asked. "He doesn't spend more time working than he used to? He doesn't say how he has to stay late?"

Draco did all of those things, but it wasn't because he was cheating on her.

He was so much better than that.

Viktor took her silence as her answer. "He's the head of his own company, love."

She snatched the bottle off the table, and drank until there was nothing left. "I don't know. I don't think he would ever cheat on me."

"But," Viktor said gently, "you would have never thought you would divorce either."

"You're making this worse by confusing me." Hermione breathed. It would be easy to stop fighting. He was interested in her, and whether it was for only a night—it would be better that way—her marriage was circling the drain.

"I'm helping you." He murmured. "Malfoy is wrong for you. He treats you like nothing."

She buried her face in her hands.

"I wouldn't."

She lost the last bit of her resistance and nodded.

* * *

Most of her weight was on him as she leaned into him, and she still tripped over her feet, and wrinkles in the carpet that weren't truly there. It should have crossed her mind that she was drunker than she had ever been in her life, on a swift downward spiral to nowhere good, but it didn't.

Her reflection stared back at her in a mirror they passed. Her mascara was slightly smudged, and her eyes glassy.

Her back met the door after he led her into his room, and his lips were on hers.

_Don't think. You need to forget._

Hermione realized it was Viktor's words coaxing her as he cradled her face. "So beautiful," He murmured, his finger chasing a path down her jaw. "I've always thought so."

"Thank you." Hermione whispered. She gripped his arms, certain she would collapse if it weren't for his knee wedged between her thigh.

He didn't ask to peel her dress off of her, but they were long past questions. Her zipped slipped down her back, exposing her flushed skin to his touch.

He tipped her head up with his knuckle. "Step out of your dress, love."

No one but Draco had seen her bare in years. Her curves were no longer smooth, her breasts no longer as perky as they had been in youth, and her hips were much wider after two children.

The dress pooled around her ankles, leaving her in a strapless bra, and a matching pair of knickers.

Viktor appreciated her as if she'd dressed up for _him,_ and on some level, she supposed she might have done it to feel good about herself. But it hadn't been for him. Even through her drunken stupor, she knew that.

Her arms slid around his neck as he picked her up, his large hands cupping her arse as he carried her to the bed. Sitting on the edge with her poised in his lap, he ran his fingers over the swell of her arse. Squeezing the soft flesh there in his hands while nipping her throat, he rapsed, "You're everything I imagined."

Her lips parted. "You thought of this?"

"Each time I saw you." Hands gliding up her back, he unclasped her bra with one hand. "I understood that you were happily married, so I've never…" He cleared his throat. "He's a fool."

She gulped, her fingers trembling as she undid each button of his shirt. "I don't want to talk about him." Unable to say his name when it felt like blades in her throat, Hermione pressed her lips to Viktor's.

It wasn't everything she wanted, but it was a distraction.

He twisted them to where she laid before him, her head resting on the pillows as he settled between her thighs. Holding her breasts, he swiped his tongue across her nipple, lightly sucking it until she cried out. Vaguely knowing she'd asked for more, Hermione pressed herself into his hand as his fingers slid against her clit.

Viktor tore her knickers off of her, flinging them onto the floor, and slid two fingers inside of her. It was humiliating how wet she already was, from a few touches, a few crass words, but he praised her. "You're so good, Hermione." He pressed the words into her skin, curling his fingers as they pumped into her while his thumb rubbed slow circles over her clit. "So pretty, and flushed just like this. How could he ever let you go?"

Hermione's eyes remained shut, and her lower lip quivered. "I said I didn't want to talk about him."

"You want me to make you forget?" He asked, kneeling between her legs, and kissing her mound. "I could make you forget."

She _didn't _want to forget, not completely, but the onslaught of conflicting emotions was going to make her combust. As she gave a stiff nod, his tongue rolled against her clit. Without his voice, she pretended it was Draco with her, lavishing her and making her toes curl.

Of course, Hermione couldn't completely buy into the fantasy when her toes didn't curl, and everything was so _wrong._

Viktor palmed her breasts, rolling a stiff, pert nipple between his fingers. It was something she normally whimpered for, but not a sound left her. Not a moan, or a gasp.

She ripped away from him, scrambling across the bed, and summoned her dress into her hands. Knowing that he had already seen every inch of her, Hermione still turned away to dress. "I can't."

"Hermione?" His tone was loud, accusatory, and for the first time, she thought of the situation for what it was. "What is it?'

"I said," Hermione cleared her throat. "I said that I can't do this. It doesn't matter if I'm divorcing, or the slim—and bloody unlikely—chance that he's cheated on me. I can't cheat on the man I love."

Cruel laughter filled the air. "You already have. What's the harm in finishing?"

If he advanced another step, she'd stun him. Perhaps an overreaction, but the sharp edge of a threat in his voice left her believing it would be for the best. "The damage may be done, and it may ruin my marriage if there was a chance of saving it, but I'm not going to stay here."

"Utterly devoted to a man who doesn't love you?"

She lifted her chin, but she stumbled, her vision blurry on the edges. "You know nothing of our marriage, but all you've done is take advantage of a situation that was presented to you."

He scoffed. "I took advantage of you? No one would ever believe that a witch like you could be forced into something she didn't want. You _wanted _it. You took my fingers to your cunt under the table like a proper little slut who's husband won't look at her."

_Leave._

_Leave._

_Leave before you make a decision you will regret even more than the one you've already made._

The door slammed behind her, and her dress was crooked. Her hair was matted, and she burst into tears. Of all the things she'd done through the summer that had been filled with fights, she'd put the final nail in herself. All alone.

The corridor was barely lit, being nearly midnight, and she slumped against the wall. Apparition wasn't an option, not in her state, which only elevated her anger. She was so pissed she could barely walk. It had been by a stroke of luck that her words to Viktor had not come out as unintelligible slurs.

"Hermione?"

She looked up, horrified to see Draco standing in front of her. "Is that lipstick on your collar?" Hermione asked. Unable to even pretend to be hurt when she was outside the room of someone who had touched her, she only took in his shocked expression.

Pain flickered across his face. "I was on my way home to grovel."

"I should probably be the one to do that." She whispered. "We don't need until Monday, do we?"

"Hermione, what did you _do_?"

She wiped her eyes with the bottoms of her palms, a sob wrenching out of her chest. "I cheated on you."

Draco flinched. "Don't try to Apparate. You'll splinch yourself." His hand shot out as she moved to do just that, damn the consequences. "Stay here. It's okay." He pulled her into his broad chest, resting his chin on top of her head. "Tell me what happened. You're so fucking drunk, Hermione."

She let herself nuzzle his chest, wondering if it would be the last time she was able to do it. The brunt of the thought nearly cleaved her in two, but it was well deserved, even if he hadn't been completely faithful either. "Viktor owled me this week to catch up while he was here."

His arms stiffened. "Was this pre-arranged? The…"

She shook her head. "Never. I thought it would be drinks like in the past, but after our fight, I wanted a distraction. I drank so much elf wine before I made a terrible, terrible decision." Tears stained his shirt as he rubbed her back. "You don't have to do this, Draco. I don't deserve it."

"I didn't have sex with her." He began, changing the subject. "She wanted to, and I could have stayed, but I couldn't. It's still infidelity, but I was on my way home to you."

Her shoulders shook.

"I wanted to meet you halfway, or wherever you'll allow me to. That hasn't changed because of this, Hermione."

Stepping out of his embrace, she shook her head. "I believed horrible things he said about you. You shouldn't want to meet me anywhere unless it's to petition for divorce."

"No," Draco shook his head. "Come home, take a Sober Up potion, and let me see what happened tonight."

It was one thing to tell him what had happened, but to allow him to see it, she couldn't bear it. "Draco…"

Threading their fingers together, he led her all the way down to the Floo.

* * *

"How's your head?" Draco paced in front of the bed where she sat, digging his fingers into his hair.

Her dress was in a pile on the floor since she'd changed into a jumper and shorts. Tomorrow, she thought, she'd burn the dress. "Like shite." Hermione sighed. "Draco, I can't,"

"I went to her." He blurted. "I knew she would meet me, and I knew no one would ever know."

"Who is she?"

"Astoria."

She bit the inside of her cheek hard to trap her scream. "I suppose it would be her." Hermione murmured. "I shouldn't say that when I've done the same. But, I had wondered before if there was something. Was there? Has this happened before and that's how you knew I would never find out?"

His glare slipped from his face as quickly as it had come. "No, I've never cheated on you before tonight."

"Why did you go to her?" A thread in the duvet caught under her nail, and continued to tug on the thread. "Why wasn't I enough?"

There was silence, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Draco dropped to his knees in front of her, and laid his head in her lap.

Unable to control herself for a second longer, she combed her fingers through his dishevelled hair. "Why did you go?"

"I don't know." Draco's face was wet as she cupped his cheeks to pulls his head up. Tears rolled down openly, and she sighed. "It was foolish when you were home. If I had come home, I could have prevented you—"

Hermione swallowed. "Don't do that, Draco. Please. It's not your fault I went outside of our marriage."

"What did he say to you?"

She didn't want this. "You'll think even less of me than you already do."

His fingers tapped against her knee. "I love you, and nothing will change that." Draco held his finger over her lips when she attempted to speak. "Hermione, please, I will give anything to fix this. I will go to any marriage counselor you want, but they will tell us there can't be a single secret between us."

Her nose was running, and she sniffled. "Does that mean you'll show me Astoria if I show you Viktor?"

He nodded. "I'll extract the memories, and place them in our pensieve. If it leads to… well, I would understand."

Watching memories of her husband with another woman would make her vomit. "If you want to see it, then do it."

He held her hand as he looked into her head, and the memories were crisp, and sharp at the front of her mind. Draco's lower lip quivered as he listened to the conversation in the bar, as he watched her resolve slowly crumble—and it horrified her just as much to watch. All the way into the hotel room, to where her clothes fell on the floor, and to when she had left.

When Draco didn't rip away from her as if she burned, she could barely breathe. "I'm so sorry."

Another nod, this one slower as he slumped to his haunches. "I don't think it was entirely your fault. At least," he whispered. "I don't entirely blame you."

"How could you not?"

Draco reached for her, his fingers closing around her hips and he pulled her into his lap, her legs resting on either side of him. "He knew what he wanted the moment you mentioned the state of our marriage. Krum knew what he wanted and how to get it. He picked at your insecurities, which I feel it's still my own doing that you have them."

She fidgeted with the hem of his oxford. "I still made the choice to go to his room, and I didn't shove him away."

"You did." Draco acknowledged. "It's not that I'm looking for a way to say this isn't your fault. We've made horrific decisions that have long reaching consequences. He didn't drink."

She hid her face in his shoulder. "I'm such an idiot." Shivering as he rubbed her back, Hermione thought her lungs would collapse. "He just," she sobbed. "He made me feel important, and I walked into it."

"I should have made you feel important." Draco kissed the crown of her head. "Tell me, what do you want? Do you want to meet with a solicitor?"

"No!" She exclaimed. "But I don't see how we can recover from this. I'll never get the image of you standing there with lipstick stains all over you out of my head. I'm sure you feel the same."

Strands of blond hair fell into his face. "Maybe, but it doesn't make me want to leave you." Draco admitted softly. "I've never wanted that."

Reeling, Hermione crushed him to her in a hug that made him wheeze. "I'm so sorry for tonight, for so much of this year." Her words curled across his skin. "However, I have to ask because I'm terrified to hope for it, and be wrong. Are you positive you want to fix our marriage?"

"I'm absolutely certain the only thing I've ever wanted in this life is to spend it with you." Draco told her gently. "I'll be home more often."

She agreed.

"And though the sessions with a stranger may be terrible, I'm willing to attend as many as we need to."

"There's another thing." Hermione said uneasily. "My actions tonight won't go unnoticed. The Hari is a Wizarding hotel, and I'm sure there were several who saw my depravity. It's likely they saw you arrive as well."

His gaze darkened. Obviously, Draco hadn't thought outside of the small bubble they had found themselves in. He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "I had never stopped to consider that."

She bit her lip. "The fallout will be terrible. I don't doubt it will be published by morning. Scorpius and Rose—"

Draco cut her off, looking more like himself than he had since carrying her through the Floo. "We'll go to Hogwarts before the Daily Prophet runs. It's best they hear everything from us." He twisted a curl around his finger. "When they ask about us, we'll tell them we're not without our mistakes, but that we want to fix it."

Hermione knew that once the world learned of their indiscretions, it would be due to her position that it was all anyone could discuss for months. "They will likely call for me to be removed as minister."

"Absolutely not. I'll—"

She kissed him, and his lips were still beneath hers. "I'm sorry if I overstepped, you'll do nothing. Our family is most important, and if I lose my career in the process of making it my priority, then—"

His lips crashed against hers, and his fingers knotted in her hair. Nails scraped her scalp, and Hermione fumbled to push herself closer. "I love you," Draco whispered.

There was not a second spared for her to reply as he claimed her lips once more. Draco shifted them, hovering over her as her back met the plush carpet. When he pulled away to tear his shirt over his head, she managed a weak, "I love you."

Before covering her body with his, he stripped her slowly. First her jumper so he could drag his lips along her collarbone, and the edge of her bra, his tongue running along smooth skin. Then her shorts, and he pressed kisses up her thighs until she shook.

"I just want you." Hermione's voice broke as a moan. He tugged her bra down, her breasts spilling from the fabric and he closed his lips around her nipple. "Do you understand?"

He slipped her knickers down her thighs. Slow in his movements as if he didn't want to scare her, Draco slid into her slowly. Hanging his head as her nails bit into his back scratching all the way down, his ragged breathing matched hers. "I never want you to believe you need someone else."

"Just you." She sighed, locking her legs around him. "I always want it to be you."

He pressed apologies into her skin.

For _leaving in the first place, for leaving on trips that were to escape her, for treating her so poorly—_

"—for breaking my vows."

She cried out as his fingers circled her clit, and her apology for the same offense was a stuttered moan as his hips met hers.

Sweat rolled across his forehead. "We'll take new vows." He swore. "I'd marry you again tomorrow."

"So would I." Hermione buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, God, I'm close. I can't hang on." She bit at the bottom of his throat, leaving a mark that would greet them in the morning.

He picked her up, locking his arms around her, and holding her upright as he slid into her. "Let go, love." Draco kissed the skin between her breasts as she reached to where their bodies were joined. "I want to watch my wife fall apart."

_Wife._

Draco quieted her scream by kissed her, and his movements slowed. He followed shortly after, filling her with a raspy groan in her ear that caused her toes to curl.

She could have collapsed on the floor beside him, but he lifted her onto the bed. "I love you." Hermione reached for him, tracing the curve of his spine.

He laid next to her, propping his head up in his hand while peering down at her. A smile curved his lips as she snuggled close to him. "I'll wake you in the morning."

The sheets wrinkled as she gripped them in her hand. "You'll still be here?" Hermione asked.

"I'll be here." He promised. "It's going to be a lot of work, but we'll get up every single day and work for it. You're—we're worth that."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this entire thing, thank you! If you scrolled to the bottom to see the ending like I do with things like this, smart. Lol. I would love to read what you thought, so if you don't mind, please leave a comment. I'm still accepting requests, anonymous or not, on my tumblr at mrsren96.


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